Motel Room Memories
by a.lakewood
Summary: Sam and Dean spend just as much time in cheap, weirdly-themed motels as they do in the Impala, but some of those motel rooms – for one reason or another – must be more memorable than the rest. Here's to making a new memory. WINCEST. PWP.


**Title**: Motel Room Memories  
**Author**: alakewood  
**Warnings**: Wincest (mention of underage), AU, PWP.  
**Rating**: M or NC-17, just to be on the safe (and filthy!) side.  
**Word** **Count**: 2245-ish  
**Summary**: Sam and Dean spend just as much time in cheap, weirdly-themed motels as they do in the Impala, but some of those motel rooms – for one reason or another – must be more memorable than the rest. Here's to making a new memory.  
**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

As soon as the Impala rolled into the gravel parking lot, Sam began to wonder how bad it would be this time. He let his imagination run wild with all the possibilities as Dean disappeared into the motel office to rent them a room for however long their current job would last. Dean returned to the car, tossing the room key through the open window into Sam's lap before he settled himself in the driver's seat once again.

The key was attached to a football-shaped key chain with a fading black "7" written on one side in permanent marker. Sam studied the object in his hands. Things were looking worse.

Dean parked in front of the door also marked "7" - this time, though, the number looked just like those printed on the backs of jerseys. Sam just tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever he was about to walk into as he and Dean retrieved their bags from the trunk. He opened the door and, even before he turned on the light, he knew it was _bad._ Just beyond the scuffed metal threshold of the door was green carpet. No, not green carpet - _astroturf._ He turned to face Dean, "Are you on some sort of personal quest to find the most gaudy, horrific, and god-awful motel rooms in the United States?"

Dean shrugged, a smirk tugging up one corner of his mouth. "Not really, no. It just always seems that the cheapest places – the ones that accept cash – and don't question _anything_ tend to be the ones with the most questionable...decor." As though reiterating his point, Dean tossed his duffel onto the foot of the bed nearest the door, the comforter emblazoned with the New Orleans Saints fleur de lis.

"Can't we, please, just _once_, stay in a normal, plain motel?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"You _do_ have some kind of twisted agenda, don't you?" Sam asked as he sat on the edge of Dean's mattress.

Dean shrugged a shoulder. "I wouldn't call it an _agenda._ The surroundings just make things more memorable when they happen. For example," he bent his left index finger back with his right one, "remember that hunting lodge we stayed in when Dad had that job in Wyoming in ninety-eight? Had the taxidermied animals mounted all over the room?" He waited for Sam's reaction before continuing. To Sam's wide eyes and slightly parted lips, he said, "You remember."

"You convinced me to smoke weed with you."

"Wasn't the only one doing the convincing."

Sam's cheeks flushed in response.

Dean's thumb stroked over the heated skin, satisfied with Sam's unnecessary embarrassment. "Remember how _paranoid_ you were, thinking all those animals were watching us?"

"I was fifteen. And high."

"_I_ remember." He knocked Sam's knees apart with one of his own and took a step closer to his brother. "What about the motel just outside of Vegas in two-thousand?"

Sam's eyes flicked up to Dean's before focusing on one of the buttons of Dean's overshirt. "The one wall was all mirrors, everything was covered with crushed velvet, and the room smelled like cheap perfume," Sam recalled, voice rough. The room had been tacky and gaudy and _Vegas._

"Remember watching yourself, and me, as you fucked me wide open for the first time?"

Sam's breath hitched as the memory came back, suddenly making him hard. He lifted his hands and stroked his palms up Dean's thighs.

"Summer, oh-one. Before you left for Stanford." Dean's fingers raked through Sam's hair, fingernails scratching gently before he clenched his hands into loose fists around the long strands and forced Sam's face up.

"Texas, on the Gulf," Sam said, Adam's apple even more pronounced at that angle as he swallowed. "The air was broken."

"And I finally fucked you. There were maracas on the wall above the bed," Dean said, laughing. "They weren't there for long."

"The woven Mexican blanket on the bed. It was hot and rough."

"The blanket? Or the sex?" Dean asked, fingers relaxing, one hand cupping the back of Sam's head while the other moved to cup his jaw, thumb swiping over Sam's bottom lip.

He didn't blush this time, raised his gaze to meet Dean's, feeling the heat of it just as surely as he did from Dean's hands. "Both." He kept his mouth open just enough to let his tongue slide between his teeth to wet Dean's thumb.

Dean took the invitation and pressed his thumb inside Sam's mouth, letting Sam give him a preview of what deliciously wicked things were to come. "So, uh, let's make a new memory." He, none-too-gently, shoved Sam back onto the mattress and pushed his duffel off onto the floor. Kneeling in the space between Sam's thighs, he made quick work of the button and zipper of Sam's jeans, moving to tug them and Sam's boxers down past his knees. Dean made a low noise deep in his throat that sounded like a growl and climbed back up onto the bed, hand fisting Sam's dick as he finally claimed his brother's mouth.

Sam arched his back, thrust into Dean's hand, his own fingers clawing against the black fabric of the bedcovers. His head thrown back, mouth open, panting shallow breaths as Dean jerked him rough and fast. "_God,_ Dean. Y-yeah." He sucked a breath in through clenched teeth. "Just-just like..._oh._"

Then Dean's hand was gone as he began undoing his own jeans, shoving them down his hips, revealing his own straining cock. He stroked himself a couple times, holding Sam's heavy-lidded gaze, before reaching down behind Sam's knees and tugging his brother to the edge of the mattress. "C'mon, Sammy," Dean said, voice low with need, rasping with want. "Show me what you can do with that mouth."

Sam leaned up on his elbows, watching Dean take a step back from the bed, turned his stare to Dean's dick, disappearing and reappearing in his brother's tight fist. Slid his ass off the edge of the bed, landed on his knees on the floor, carpet burning, abrasive against his skin as he moved closer to Dean. One of his hands slid up the back of Dean's thigh, fingers kneading the muscle of Dean's ass, as the other pulled Dean's hand away from his cock and directed the throbbing member into Sam's waiting mouth. He swirled his tongue over the head, tasting salt and Dean, and his brother moaned so he did it again, working his hand in tandem with his mouth.

Dean carded his fingers through Sam's hair, letting his hands rest behind Sam's head, not guiding him. Not yet.

Sam pulled Dean's dick from his mouth, jacked him slowly, nose nudging the thick-veined skin at the base of Dean's cock as he sucked Dean's balls into the wet heat of his mouth, fondled the sac with his tongue and let his teeth scrape the delicate flesh as he released them.

"Fuck, Sam." Dean tugged at Sam's hair then, pulled Sam's mouth back up to where he wanted it. Sam smiled up at him and he had to bite his lip when Sam opened his mouth wide and swallowed him down completely, humming when his nose brushed the fine, wiry hairs at the base of Dean's cock. Harsh gasps heaved Dean's chest and it took every spare ounce of his concentration to keep standing.

Sam's head started bobbing, fucking his mouth on Dean's dick, the forefinger and thumb of his left hand forming a tight ring at the base. He pulled off again, letting his teeth graze the hypersensitive head, his hand taking over for his mouth. "Look at me, Dean." Licked the head with firm pressure, tongued the slit, when Dean didn't comply. "_Look_ at me."

Dean finally opened his eyes, met Sam's smoldering stare. "So fucking hot, Sammy," he managed in a hoarse whisper. "On your knees...my cock in your mouth."

Sam kept his eyes focused on Dean's as he replaced his hand with his mouth again and resumed his previous pace. But Dean's fingers tightened in his hair and he quickened his thrusts, pressed deeper, into Sam's throat and Sam let him, hummed and moaned encouragement around Dean's dick.

It didn't take long, with Sam's mouth so open and his gaze so hot, before Dean could feel his orgasm building up, pressure and desire and heat coiling low in his belly, but Sam's fingers were still locked firmly at the base of his shaft. "Gonna, _Sam_, oh God...gonna-gonna come."

Sam relaxed his fingers, slid his hand between Dean's legs and pressed against his brother's perineum and Dean was coming, _hard_, hot spurts down his raw throat. He swallowed it all down, slowly let Dean's softening dick slip from his mouth, gently laved the head. Wincing, he rose to his feet and slid a hand around behind Dean's neck to force Dean's mouth to his, let Dean taste himself on Sam's tongue.

Dean eagerly returned the kiss and lightly nudged Sam backwards toward his bed. "So good, Sam," Dean breathed against Sam's mouth as he followed, teeth sharp against Sam's bottom lip before his younger brother collapsed onto the mattress. He watched Sam move further up the bed and curled his fingers around the backs of Sam's ankles, slid his hands up behind Sam's calves as he knelt on the bed, pausing the trek of his hands behind Sam's knees. Dean laughed. "Gonna have yourself some nasty carpet-burn in the morning," he said, thumbs stroking gently over the abrasions.

"_Astroturf_-burns," Sam corrected, letting his knees fall to the sides out of Dean's hands as he lazily jerked himself. "Come _on_, Dean. Show me what you've got."

Dean smirked and crawled up the bed until his thighs touched the backs of Sam's between his brother's spread legs. He slapped Sam's hand away from his dick and took both of Sam's wrists in his hands, moving them with him as he leaned up to kiss Sam and pinned his hands there beside his head on the pillow. "I'll show you," Dean breathed into Sam's ear, sliding his semi-hard dick against Sam's swollen erection, nipping at Sam's earlobe and trailing his mouth down the side of his neck and back up, along his jaw and claimed Sam's mouth in an erotically obscene kiss.

Sam's moan was swallowed down Dean's throat or muffled against Dean's tongue as he thrust up into his brother. "Dean," Sam half-sighed, half-whined. "Just _touch_ me already."

"I _am_ touching you," Dean argued, grinding his hips down into Sam's.

He could feel Dean smiling against his throat, couldn't help smiling at the tease himself. "Come on, man."

"Tell me," Dean said, pulling back to look Sam in the eye. "Tell me what you want."

"Suck me, ride me, jerk me off. _I don't care._ Just make me come."

"What if I just keep doing this?" Dean asked, thrusting down again. "Won't even put a hand on you."

"_Dean._"

"Then tell me what you want."

"Suck me off, Dean. I want you to suck my dick."

Dean chuckled into Sam's mouth, finally releasing his brother's wrists. "I love it when you talk dirty."

"Yeah?" Sam, not moving his hands from where Dean had pinned them, watched rapt as Dean slid down his body. "Well, I love the feel of your mouth on my cock." He was _almost_ embarrassed by the words that came out of his mouth, but his chagrin was quickly replaced by satisfaction at the slack-jawed expression on Dean's face. And Dean wasted no time in putting that slack jaw to use.

"Ask and ye shall receive," Dean muttered before descending on Sam's cock.  
Sam watched Dean take him in balls-deep and Sam couldn't stop the involuntary thrust of his hips from the sudden wet heat surrounding him. Watched Dean's cheeks hollow with suction as he pulled off Sam's dick. Watched Dean slick one of his fingers with spit before Sam felt it sliding against the puckered flesh of his asshole. He gasped, "_Fuck._"

Dean's mouth and finger moved in sync and he had Sam writhing nearly in seconds.

It was too much, too soon. "No, not yet, not- oh, oh, _God._ Dean...gonna...I'm gonna-"

Dean's fist took over for his mouth for a moment. "Yeah, Sammy. Come on. Come for me." Swallowed Sam down again, let Sam thrust erratically into his throat. Took it, all of it. Then Sam was coming, coming undone beneath him. He licked Sam clean and crawled back up the bed to stretch himself out beside his brother. "It's been too long since we've..."

"Yeah," Sam sighed contentedly, rolling more onto his side to face Dean. "Way too long. Almost forgot how good it is."

"Don't worry. Won't let you forget again. I got the feeling there'll be a lot of opportunities for memories in our future."

"Mm," Sam agreed. "Guess that means no Motel 6's or Super 8's, huh?"

"Normal and plain are overrated, Sammy. Wouldn't trade fucked up and twisted for anything."

Sam held Dean's gaze for a long time. "Yeah. Me either."


End file.
